Warder Tales side story: In private
by Blue Dragon
Summary: A side-story to the "Recruit" sequence in "Warder Tales". In case you were wondering what Master-At-Arms Kentrin and Marlise Sedai are up to when they're not arguing over how best to take care of the Warder trainees...


**In private**

_Author's Note;_

_This is some fill-in-some-blanks that popped into my overactive mind after I wrote the "Recruit" sequence for "Warder Tales". I thought the two, Kentrin and Marlisle, struck sparks, so here's the "back story", supposed to be set a few years after "Recruit". Essentially, writing this, I was just having a bit of fun._

_I rated this M because it contains some mature content. Nothing at all too graphic, but if you're not old enough, well... I suppose I can't stop you, but I have warned you._

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Halfway through afternoon practice Marlisle Sedai appeared. She would have been called plumply beautiful if she hadn't had that stern ageless face, and this day she was dressed in splendid gold and white silks with a net of pearls keeping her hair in a neat bun. She looked very queenly, incongruous with the courtyard amidst the dust and the sweating men, but she had her place there as much as any of them. A place… of supervision. Usually her presence was a motherly kind… but that included protecting what she saw as her cubs – the recruits and trainees – with all the ferocity of a mother bear.

This time, her presence was without a doubt ferocious.

"Master Kentrin!" she boomed. "A word, if you _please_!" She swept off toward the Master At Arm's quarters, clearly expecting to be followed immediately.

Master Kentrin summoned a drill instructor with a wave and exchanged a few words with him, already heading after Marlisle. With all haste. When an Aes Sedai summoned like _that_, you _went_, no questions asked, not even if you were the Master At Arms. After a few steps at his side, listening, the drill instructor nodded and returned to the others. Kentrin continued alone. He set his face grimly, adopted the walking stance To Face The Last, and the recruits and Warders sent him sympathetic glances as he passed them. They knew Marlisle had no mercy for anyone who displeased her, and they knew he had come at odds with the woman on more occasions than any of them could count.

Hardly a training session went by without Marlisle for some reason being there. When she wasn't tending some scrape or bruise or more serious accident, often she could be found telling him how he had been doing something _wrong_. Recently, he had begun to argue with her; and much to everyone's amazement, she had not taken his head off. Not publically, at least. But this was not the first time she summoned him to a private audience, and in private, he frequently… so to speak… lost his head.

He usually emerged from such sessions rather dishevelled. The recruits and Warders would likely not have traded places with him for all the riches beyond the seas. Which was for the bes t .

Master Kentrin kept to his walking stance all the way in through the door. When he closed and bolted it behind him he let the stance go, relaxing as much as he ever did. No posturing would help him now.

Marlisle Sedai stood with her arms crossed over her chest and her face set in hard lines.

"Have you set a ward against eavesdropping, Marlisle Sedai?" he asked her.

"Certainly," she huffed. "Master Kentrin, I've heard –"

Before she could continue he had swept her into his arms and kissed her. _Thoroughly_. A woman like her needed to be thoroughly kissed, or ther e would be no use to it. She shoved at him, first, but her protests weakened quickly, until her hands, clenched tight over into the collar of his gambeson, were the only parts of her still tense. She sagged in his arms, all a-tremble, and when he raised his mouth from hers she let out air raggedly and her eyes fluttered closed. He tasted her lips again, gently this time, then placed equally gentle kisses over her face, down her neck, finally burying his face between her breasts. A fine, ample bosom it was, too.

She stroked his hair, murmuring something, and he raised his head again. "Don't tell me, Marlisle, that you were actually going to yell at me this time ."

"I was," said Marlisle, but the hardness was out of her voice. She kept touching him, stroking his hair, cupping his cheeks in her little hands, smiling despite herself when he turned into that hand to kiss her palm. "Oh, I was. But I've… I've quite forgotten what about."

He grinned at her.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" she accused, tugging – hard – at the tail his hair was in.

"Yes," he admitted. "It's the only way I've figured to get you quiet."

"Someday, Master Kentrin, I'm going to have to do something about that."

"Oh, really? Will that be before or after you –"

She set a hand over his mouth, her look firm. She was finding her balance again. He suspected that if he let her go, she would even stand on her own. Never a good thing.

"Well, what was it about?" he said, while manoeuvring his hands to reach the buttons of her dress. She didn't stop him; a good sign.

"The... the fifth recruit group. They were out on a drill for five nights, and I heard you didn't feed them. If a group goes five nights without food again, Kentrin, I'll –"

"Light , Marlisle! We've been over this," he said. "The fifth group is old enough to handle a few days without food, and it's good for them to try their limits! They need to _feel_ hunger before they can learn to handle it."

"They're _boys _– "

"They're about fifteen, that group, aren't they? Old enough to go hungry." She'd been undoing the buttons on his gambeson while they spoke, and her fingers were nimbler about it than his were on her dress. He shrugged out of the heavy practice garment, let her pull the sweaty tunic over his head, and then caught her face between his hands and kissed her again. At times like these, when he had the chance, he couldn't quite help himself; he could have kept kissing her until Tarmon bloody Gaidon had come and gone, and he wouldn't much have cared. But he finally drew back, closed his eyes with his forehead against hers, and tried to remember what they had been saying.

"The boys," Marlisle filled him in helpfully, if somewhat breathlessly. "You've… not fed them properly. They're…"

He gathered his wits. The recruits, yes. "There are children and adults of all ages starving in every city under the Light, and you're worried about a group of well-fed, well-trained youths in their prime, going five _supervised_ days without food?"

"Yes, well, these are _my_ boys," breathed Marlisle. She slapped his hands away from the line of bottons behind her dress, where they had begun fumbling again. "You better not pop another button, Kentrin, not on this gown. Let me handle those."

He let her. He rid himself of his swordbelt and boots, letting them drop to the floor. By then the dress hung loose about her upper body. She gave a little cry when he lifted her up and carried her towards the bed, but caught herself in a moment and wrapped her legs about his waist.

Her teeth nibbled at his ear, all while she went on; "You drive those boys quite hard during those drills, and they do need their nutrition at that age. They're growing quickly, and –"

They tumbled together onto the bed. Kentrin silenced her with another kiss. She could talk and talk, but _he_ was in no mood to discuss recruits any more. Someone would surely feed the lot of them if they began looking feeble. In fact, he was quite sure that the matron of the barrack mess hall had been hired for just that very purpose.

Marlisle didn't resist his kiss this time; instead she squirmed and wriggled to some arrangement beneath him that suited her, and began pushing down his breeches. With her _legs_ – Light, but despite her plumpness she was surprisingly nimble. And her hands stroked him, then held him, touched him and caressed him, all of it fuelling the fire already burning inside him. Burn that bloody silk dress, it was still –

"Careful with that," she warned him again, slapping his hands away for the second time. She pushed at him and he complied, rolling in beneath her to give her room to work. She drew the gown over her head, taking more care with the silk and the frills than he would have, and her bodice followed quick enough. Women had such complicated clothing procedures. Kentrin trailed his fingertips over her skin where he could reach it, admiring the curves of her body through the thin linen shift, admiring how she moved, and smiling when a more intimate touch made her shudder, and colour crept up her cheeks. When she finally pulled the shift off, he took her by the hips and pulled himself in to kiss her belly. That made her giggle, tug at his ear, and return his grin with a smile worth a thousand suns. He settled back on the pillows, massaging her thighs while she rid herself of the garter belt and stockings.

Her hands trembled by the time she raised them to undo the clasps on the net of pearls that held her hair, but she managed it, set the piece of jewellery neatly aside. She looked down at him and made a visible effort to appear strict. "We're not done speaking of the boys," she warned him.

"Should it be a long discussion..?" he asked her, while having something completely different in mind.

"Moderately long. And you had better come out of it looking very much worse for the wear."

"I'll do my very best," he promised, pulling her down to kiss her again.


End file.
